


Desire and Curiosity

by iwastetimechasingcars



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fluff, Harry Potter AU, M/M, One Shot, all good vibes in this fic, but talk, hufflepuff marco, i actually had a lot of fun writing this!, i feel satisfied with it and I hope you enjoy it!, slytherin jean bc what else could he be, they do nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-19 23:31:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13134471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwastetimechasingcars/pseuds/iwastetimechasingcars
Summary: Jean’s whole fifth year had been plagued with desire and curiosity. Desire to hold Marco’s hands on long train rides, for instance, and the curiosity of what it would be to pass time with Marco, holding said hand.





	Desire and Curiosity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emelianss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emelianss/gifts).



> Prompt: Harry Potter AU, Hufflepuff!Marco and Slytherin!Jean
> 
> Description: It's Christmas at Hogwarts their seventh year, and Jean is getting desperate. He's had an awkward/embarrassing crush on his best friend Marco since sometime during their fifth year (might or might not have started already on the train back to school that year when he suddenly realized how gorgeous Marco had turned over summer ((or always had been)) ) and now he has finally tried to find the right time to tell him all semester, but it has never worked out. They're both staying at school over Christmas, so now It Has To Be Said. At the same time he's nervous and worries about what Marco will think. He doesn't know that Marco's feeling the same way, and is actually trying to confess too. Fluff, magic, snow and happy boys being in love.  
> \--  
> Hello Emelianss! I've your secret santa for this gift exchange and I hope you enjoy this gift fic! this was so much fun to write! It was a bit tricky because I had to delve deep into my memories to pull out any Harry Potter canon I can remember, but I thoroughly enjoy the direction this turned to. Happy Holigays!

The astronomy tower was ruthlessly cold that night, Jean noted. To be fair, most winter nights he found the astronomy tower cold.  He tugged his coat tighter against his torso and fought back a shiver. A cigarette--that would warm him up. He reached a shaking hand into his pants and pulled out his cigarette box. 

It was a cold winter that year--the snow began early and was expected to drag well on to the next year. Jean hated the cold. He hated how the cold made his limbs protest against movement, determined and stiff in place. He huffed, and a puff of warm air escaped his lips in a cloud. He wished he was home right now, sprawled on top of the pull out couch in his parent’s basement, cuddled up with the family dog, wearing minimal clothing but maximum blankets. Instead, he was at Hogwarts, just barely managing to leave last week’s exams alive. 

Jean tapped the tip of his wand to the end of his cigarette when it was clenched fimly in between his lips. He barely had to mutter an ignite spell under his breath any more, before the end lit up and became ash. He took a quick drag of the cigarette to start himself off. 

The smoking was a recent habit he’d developed over the summer when he returned home from his sixth year, as a result of taking smoke breaks with his dad from long drives. 

Well, if you  _ could _ call it home. 

A sigh escaped his lips as he thought of his parents. His dad, a successful realtor in their hometown, and his mom, recently diagnosed with  _ empty nester syndrome _ . 

Sometime between March of Jean’s sixth year and May, his parents had sold everything they owned (except for Jean’s PS4, which has stayed put in a box at his grandma’s house), and bought a camper van. 

“I’m their only kid. I’m their  _ entire world _ .” Jean remembers telling Marco when he had asked how his summer had went. They were the only two in the cabin so far, as they found themselves year after year at the beginning of each train ride. Sasha and Connie would soon find them, tailed by Armin and Mikasa and Eren and whoever else decided to tag along. Once they did, they’d all cram into the cabin, nabbing at each other’s candies and asking about the summer. “Since they’re both muggles and I’m entering my final year in wizarding school, they’ve become  _ convinced _ that they have a higher purpose--they just have to look for it.”

“Look for what where?” Marco said. His eyes wide with shock. He was one of many children, and he could never imagine his mom packing up everything to go soul searching. He stuck his hand into his pocket, pulling out a box of Every Flavor Jelly Beans. He reached out his hand and dropped a few in Jean’s palm.

“They’re just  _ traveling _ . My mom said that they will go where they’re meant to, and find what they’re supposed to.” Jean rolled his eyes. “It’s like they became American Hippies or something--and they didn’t even tell me! I was dragged all over the continent in their VW!”

“That sounds like an adventurous summer.”

“I don’t know what they’re looking for Marco, but there’s no way you can find it during a mid-life crisis.”

“Who knows,” Marco mused, “Maybe the wizarding world has an opening for muggle-friendly realtors.” 

Marco smiled at him when he said that, and Jean remembers wondering about Trolley-Candy flavored kisses with his best friend.

That hadn’t been his first intrusive thought of him--Jean’s whole fifth year had been plagued with desire and curiosity. Desire to hold Marco’s hands on long train rides, for instance, and the curiosity of what it would be to pass time with Marco. Of course, as Marco’s best friend, Jean passes time with him regularly. But to pass time where he wouldn't feel ashamed about staring and trying to connect each freckle on Marco’s body like dots-- that’s where curiosity would scratch at the corners of his mind. 

It’d been torture for over a year--that’s an exaggeration. It was torturous in the summer when he couldn’t see Marco as often as he did throughout the school year, only after epiphanizing that  _ hey _ ,  _ you’re kind of in love with your best friend _ . Or he thought it was. 

_ Torture  _ was waiting to see your best friend all summer, and the first thought to come to your head when you see him is  _ I’d like to kiss him _ and feel immediate shame for thinking of that.  _ Torture  _ is not being able to have a conversation with Marco without being over analytical-- _ is now a good time to tell him?  _ (The answer has never been yes.) _ Torture _ is seeing your best friend every day, wanting to tell him,  _ someone out there loves you, and that someone is me _ , but all that comes out is  _ wow, can you believe that Filch’s cat is still alive? I swear, I just saw that thing get into a fight with a hippogriff--and lemme tell ya, that hippogriff  _ is not _ the one who emerged a victor.  _

The last part--probably an exaggeration. 

Jean jumped, snapping out of his thoughts and nearly dropped his cigarette when he heard footsteps climbing onto the top steps of the staircase. He turned around ready to accept his fate, but completely ready to pull a lie out of his ass in case Filch had caught him somewhere he shouldn’t have been. 

Instead, it was Marco’s friendly face popped through the opening, scanning the room before his eyes landed on Jean. A smile stretched across his freckled face as he entered climbed the last of the steps. 

“Since when do you smoke?” Marco asked as he got closer to Jean. He is dressed in plenty of layers, seeming to have no issues against the harsh temperatures (unlike  _ some  _ people we may know). He leaned forward on the railing next to Jean, and stared at the night sky, just as the first specks of snow began to drip down.

Jean took another drag of the cigarette, surprised to see he was almost done with it. “It’s a habit I picked up from my dad over the summer.” He explained, “It got worse throughout the quidditch season this year and with exams.” 

Marco nearly flinched at the mention of quidditch season. He remembers Jean grumbling about rough practices, arguments with the captain, and being benched most games. Smoking the anger and frustration away, smoking to pass the time he couldn't play, and eventually smoking just because he needed something to do. 

Jean sighed, letting out a puff of smoke as he does. He flicked the butt on the ground, putting it out with the tip of his shoe, and retreating his hand into his pocket. He hadn’t expected to see Marco that night. He brought along the desire of contact with him, the curiosity of stolen astronomy tower secrets.

“I’m running out of cigarettes though,” Jean stated, “I was supposed to go back home for the break and buy some more packs, but--” he turns and looks around the room as if to continue,  _ but here I am instead. _  “Guess I’ll just have to find a new hobby.”

Marco laughed, “Why didn’t you go home?” 

“Remember how I told you my parents went soul-searching this year? They sold the house for a camper van--”

“--Right, right.” Mused Marco, “Nowhere to go back to this year?”

Jean shook his head. “If they had thought ahead we probably would have met at my grandma’s but...” 

Marco frowned at his friend and pulled his yellow and black striped scarf tighter against his neck.

“What about you?” Jean asked. He glanced over at his friend, eyes taking in the figure of him against the railing. 

Marco beamed and turned his head over to Jean, “My parents are actually going to a wedding in, Paris or something, and decided to just spend the holiday over.”

“You let them go without you?”

Marco gave a wicked smile, “My Christmas gift to them is to let them take that vacation.” He softened slightly, “But I admit that I am really missing my mom’s beef stew right now.”

Jean nodded in sympathy and a silence fell between them. WIth a puff in the air as Jean sighed, he gave a quick glance at Marco, making eye contact. Desire to share a scarf. Curiosity if it would actually keep them warm.

“Are there any other Slytherins this holiday?” Marco asked. He stepped away from the railing and instead hoisted himself up on it so that he faced the center of the room. 

“Like who didn’t go home? Not really--the seventh years who never went home for holidays decided to group together and have their own holiday instead. They took some of the underclassmen with them, so all that’s left are really the first through fourth years.” Jean took another nervous glance at Marco, but then kept a determined gaze of the night sky. “It’s way colder in the common room though-- you think Hogwarts would have invested in some sort of central heating system.” 

Marco laughs and Jean smiles. “Yeah, it’s not like  _ we can’t conjure up heat at any time.  _ I mean,  _ I can…” _

Jean turned his head to his best friend, “Are you questioning my fire spell abilities?” 

“I mean, if you think central heating is a necessity…”

“ _ We live in the dungeons.” _

“Now, can Hogwarts  _ rationally _ install central heating in dungeons?” 

Jean huffed and turned, leaning his back against the railing. He needed another cigarette. 

The thought had barely left his head when he noticed he had fished out another cigarette and lit it with the tip of his wand. The smoke that left his mouth in wisps were more distinguishable than the cloud of warm air escaping from Marco. Jean nervously lifted his head to Marco, trying to gauge his reaction to a cigarette. Marco stared at him, impressed.

“Oh,” said Marco, “I guess you  _ can  _ do fire spells.” 

Jean rolled his eyes and smiled, and the two fell into a comfortable silence, with Jean taking occasional drags from his cigarette in between silences. At some point, Marco pulls out a lollipop from one of his coats and proceeds to eat it.

_ Now is a good time to tell him,  _ Jean thought. It was one of those intrusive thoughts he had about Marco--the ones that told him  _ kiss him already,  _ or  _ how lucky we are to have him in this life.  _ It was a desire to confess, with a curiosity if he would actually have the courage to.

The thought surprised him enough that the smoke from the cigarette to  _ not _ go down his windpipe. Jean immediately doubled over, dropping his cigarette into a small pile of snow that hard formed and hacking up his lung. Next to him, Marco exploded in laughter, breaking any silence between them. 

“That’s what you get for smoking,” Marco says when Jean has recovered. The cigarette had gone out, and Jean kicked it over the ledge of the tower. 

“My dad’s been smoking for 20 years now,” Jean said, “ _ and I don’t think I’ve ever once seen him cough.” _

“Shape up, scrub.” Marco said. “Envy your father for these unattainable skills.”

Jean shook his head, “I’ll envy my father when I go through my mid-life crisis and want to find the meaning of life, or whatever.”

“I envy your parents,” Marco said. He blushed and looked away from Jean when Jean turned to him, shocked. “I mean, I envy how they completely released their inhibitions to do what they felt was right for them.”

Jean stayed silent in thought. Yeah, he supposed, it was admirable to see his parents take on such a big feat when they had an obscene amount of muggle-world expectations on them. But right for them? His parents were supposed to find themselves long before their mid-life. And instead, they were having their own adventure. 

He supposed if he was a muggle, he’d do the same. 

“I wouldn’t say they ‘released their inhibitions,’” Jean said, “But they have definitely started what they think is best for them.”

“They completely let go of everything that tied them down,” Marco stared wistfully at the sphere in the center of the room, “No fear, they stepped into an unknown.”

“I don’t think my parents would be scared as long as they were doing it together, you know?” Jean turned his head over to Marco. “I think if you had someone like that, you wouldn’t be scared of anything.”

“I have you.” Marco said. He was direct with making eye contact with Jean as he said this, and Jean’s face would have blushed, but the cold was ruthless and his face couldn’t flush. Instead, he looked away from his best friend. 

_ I have you, too,  _ he thought. 

A strong gust of wind swept through the astronomy tower, and Marco, despite being an  _ actual mountain of warm clothes _ , shivered furiously. He slid off the railing, bundling up even more, if possible, than he was before. Jean’s teeth chattered in his mouth and he crossed his arms around his torso. 

“Do you want to go somewhere warmer?” Jean asked. Marco looked around the astronomy tower, watching snow dance to the ground below, and back to Jean. He shook his head. 

“I have something that I’ve been wanting to tell you, Jean.” Marco said. 

Jean nodded and took out his wand, muttering a warmth charm for the two of them. He returned the wand to his pocket, and leaned against the railing once more, next to Marco. 

“It’s been something on my mind for awhile,” Marco began, “Like what you said about your parents not being scared as long as they were together.” 

Jean nodded, urging him to continue. 

“And right now you’re with me, so I shouldn’t be scared--but there’s no displacing this feeling in my gut.”

Marco sighed.

“You’ve been my best friend since we started coming here, Jean. We are  _ the most iconic _ Slytherin and Hufflepuff duo at this school. You come back every summer with stories of how you basically did nothing except help your mom sell soaps for her muggle business. You’re ready to put up a fight for any and  _ every  _ of our friend--that includes Eren! You can handle more Firewhiskey than our friends, and you sing the loudest when you’re drunk. You’ve helped me more times than I can count, enabling me to be more  _ adventurous _ through all seven years here. You’ve stuck by my side this whole time, and the only thing I can rationally say to sum up everything I feel about you, is that I’m in love with you.”

Shock filled Jean’s whole body, from his head to his toes, not knowing what to think. 

There was a desire to kiss his best friend. 

This time, he would satisfy the curiosity of what it felt like to kiss his best friend. 


End file.
